


from the I Miss You department

by rxtrogression



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, as with most rpf.. lies lies lies, danrad is kind of an asshole in this, emma deserves better, self indulgent TRASH, spots of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 11:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxtrogression/pseuds/rxtrogression
Summary: It’s who they’ve become, isn’t it?





	from the I Miss You department

**Author's Note:**

> this is just something i wrote on my phone while i could. it's self indulgent, trashy, and the culmination of shower-dissociation. 
> 
> i currently have limited access to my electronics (since it's summer and no amy you can't stay at home and be on your laptop all day), so i can't update my other fics until july.
> 
> disclaimer: i don't actually ship any of them, also maybe 10% of this shit is real, the rest is fake (like urs truly)

It’s like Tom has these _moments_. Moments where he stares at his old co-stars and their lives and wonders how the hell they became who they became. Dan’s across the room, and God, it’s been ages, are they..?

 

In these moments, he’s taken to just letting his mind wander.

 

-

 

“So, what happened to Feltson?” They ask. And they ask, and they ask, and it never really stops. Tom just has to refrain from rolling his eyes in exasperation (annoyance) because goddamn it, nothing happened to Feltson, other than a bit of fucking around. Like, only once or twice. He really hates these kinds of questions. It implies that they had something in the first place, and they didn’t.

 

Sure, they were close at the beginning. That was before they knew what sex was and when dating was a cute concept. Ha. Ha fucking ha. Every time they’d be seen together in public, the web would break. Dating wasn’t _cute_.

 

Don’t think he wasn’t aware of Emma’s raging crush on him. No, he was all too aware of it. And if he thought it was kind of fun to fuck with her during the last few Harry Potter movies…

 

Well, that’s his business, isn’t it? Emma’s too, he supposes, though that’s just semantics.

 

-

 

“… Radcliffe,” he admits, more truth in the word than he’d like. But he doesn’t think the fan asking will notice, nor the crowd full of drarry shippers. They’ll interpret his answers as they will. He’d be down for stealing Dan, yeah. More than willing.

 

Dan would be okay with being stolen by him, he thinks. They fucked around too, so it wouldn’t be anything _new_ , really. The whole hostage thing is a little closer to reality than he’d ever say out loud.

 

(The memory sends a hot flush through his system.)

 

Better to feed the drarry shippers than the drapple shippers, whatever that even means.

 

-

 

“You’re an asshole,” Emma says to him on the last day of shooting.

 

He knows (oh, he _knows_ ) but decides to play dumb anyways. “How so?”

 

So, okay. They fucked a few nights ago, after Emma kissed Rupert and he was just _burning_ with jealousy. Of all the cast members, Rupert still didn’t want to get it on with him. Fuck him, he could go fuck himself ( _and_ Emma while he’s at it).

 

Watson, of course, mistook his jealousy as something else, and somehow ended up in his hotel bed. They’d already been… how had that blog put it—? _Frosty._ That wasn’t because of Emma, though. Or the paparazzi.

 

No, that was all Dan’s fault. Daniel Radcliffe and his stupid smile and his stupid mussed up hair and his sinfully hot blowjobs. God, what a fucking nutter. Double entendre intended.

 

“You know how I felt,” she bites her lip, still dressed in Hermione’s get-up, looking all the more like Granger and less like Watson. “How I feel. And you still played me like a fiddle.”

 

“Emma, sweetheart—“ he starts mockingly, because how else do you deal with this? “— you knew we weren’t going anywhere.”

 

She doesn’t say anything, just opens her mouth slightly as she draws in a sharp breath. Then she looks away, and that’s all Tom needs to see before he knows he fucked up. It reminds him of the time she slapped the living shit out of him. That was kind of hot, admittedly, and Dan left hand-shaped red marks on his arse the night after.

 

Emma screws her eyes shut and spins around, marching off to find God knows who. Probably David to tell him that a certain blond asshole needs to get demoted, big time.

 

Asshole, asshole, _asshole_.

 

-

 

“We’re not enemies. We love each other, really,” he laughs, gesturing between him and Dan, still dressed in the silly second year quidditch get-up. With a faltering smile, he waits for Dan to respond, or at least lie, or _something_ for the camera in front of them.

 

It seems like hours pass before the boy lets out a hesitant chuckle and a weird “ _yeah_ ”. Then, he seems to come to terms with himself, enough to start talking about their sleepover a week ago and—

 

“— shut up, shut up, shut up,”

 

But Dan’s on a roll now, and Tom just gives up, walking towards his own seat to get his makeup touched up.

 

It hurts a little more than he’d like to admit. He thought they were getting along just fine, just— bloody _fantastic._ Elizabeth runs a comb through his hair and gives him an odd look, but he clams up and gives her the best poker face he can. Two can play the I Don’t Care game.

 

-

 

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” He asks, partly out of curiosity and partly to fill the awkward silence between them. Dan groans and rolls over onto his back.

 

“Do you even want to know?” Tom can almost appreciate the boy’s post-coital rasp. Sure, they’re teenagers, but that doesn’t stop the sex from being mind-blowing, nor the pent-up animosity from culminating.

 

His mind is a whirl of late night thoughts and reckless decisions. “Sure.”

 

Dan doesn’t look at him. Instead, the muscles in his cheek twitch, and Tom is left to deal with the uncomfortable silence again.

 

-

 

The first time Emma gets him into bed, they’ve just finished up the fifth movie, and he’s desperate for a little warmth after Dan’s I Don’t Like You Very Much hint. She’s been dropping innuendos and clues every which way. Yeah, he plays along sometimes, which probably only adds fuel to her fire, but it’s nothing to throw a fit about. Not the way she’s going, anyhow.

 

“This is just a one time thing,” she breathes, one hand tugging at the ends of his hair as she kisses him sweetly. It’s a sharp contrast to Dan, who only kisses him like the world is ending and savagery is the only way to save it.

 

Tom moans anyways, because why not, just roll with it, damn it all. “Sure, sure,” he gets out between kisses. Then they’re falling onto bed, clothes strewn about on the floor (how they got there, Tom doesn’t know, but he doesn’t really care) and bodies arching against each other. Emma is _writhing_ beneath his fingertips. As he undoes the clasp of her strapless bra, the material falls away, and he flings it behind him somewhere, leaning down to work magic with his mouth.

 

Emma loves it, he knows she does. Maybe she might love him. That would be scary, unprecedented, and outrageously unnecessary.

 

Sometimes a little fanny is better than cock.

 

-

 

Alright, alright, he may or may not have taken a bit of a liking to Dan. The kind of liking that fucks him up on the inside.

 

They’re in the middle of the first movie and damn it all, he’s 13, he’s not about to deny his pre-pubescence the chance to explore the concept of same-sex love.

 

Dan’s 12 though, and they’re both kids, and it’s all so _innocent_ that he doesn’t want to spoil anything between them, not like this—

 

But then (speak of the motherfucking _devil_ ), Dan flashes him a coy grin after a take and Tom’s stomach drops and _yeahhhh no,_ he’s not the straightest kid in the cast.

 

He knows Emma fancies him. She doesn’t hide it very well. He makes the conscious effort to give brotherly vibes; no point in playing with her heart.

 

-

 

“How do you feel about your upcoming wedding with Daniel Radcliffe?”

 

Tom’s eyebrows shoot _so_ high.

 

What the fuck.

 

The fans keep getting more insane every single fucking day.

 

Shaking his head, he leans forward into the mic and bullshits some god-awful answer that plays along with the question.

 

“He’s wearing the dress!” He finishes, cheeks burning because again, what the fuck.

 

The video comes out (as they always do), and with dread weighing him down, he opens the text message from Dan that night.

 

**_Pottah [at 8:28 PM]: Four words for you— what are you doing_ **

 

And Tom can’t _really_ resist it when Dan’s set him up so perfectly, so he goes and fucks everything up again, like he did, like he does, like he always will.

 

**_You [at 10:12 PM]: Honestly? You, hopefully ;)_ **

 

Dan leaves him on read, the asshat.

 

-

 

“I’m sure we’ll catch up over a pint, or something,” he fumbles his way through the answer, nervous because Dan is across the room, looking at him like he’s burnt his house down, and isn’t _that_ a change. Whoever is interviewing him is clearly annoyed with how unengaged he is, and they end the interview (interrogation) right then and there.

 

Where the fuck has his mind been for Dan to be stalking over to him with bloody murder in his eyes?

 

Then the man smiles (ah, fuck him) and throws an arm over his shoulder, smiling for all the cameras and con-goers to see.

 

“Meet me in 10,” he whispers without moving his lips, just loud enough for Tom to hear, accompanied by a swift glance in the general direction of _outside_.

 

And how can Tom say no to that?

 

-

 

They get each other off in the restroom of a diner nearby before they’re due for any panels.

 

Dan’s still wiping at his chin as he gets up from the floor when Tom kisses him viciously, pressing him against the laminate countertop.

 

And then the man shoves him off to tuck himself back in, and that’s definitely somewhere in the territory of That’s Not Cool, So Please Get Back Here And Kiss Me Like The Tosser You Are.

 

Dan just regards him with a disdainful sniff, and sweeps out the room with Tom’s dignity, probably to go find Dane or somebody who appreciates him.

 

It’s who they’ve become, isn’t it?

 

Emma won’t talk to him either— she made that _quite_ clear at that stupid MTV event. Thank God she’s not even here. Tom doesn’t think he could deal with that.

 

-

 

There’s something infinitely frustrating about being over thirty and playing this stupid game of carousel. Sighing, he turns his phone over in his hand, seeing the all-too-familiar "Grant Gustin!!!!!!" notification pop up on screen.

 

Bless his soul. At least there’s one co-star who genuinely likes him.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for coming to my ted talk lmao
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](http://rxtrogression.tumblr.com/) or [livejournal!](https://rxtrogression.livejournal.com/)


End file.
